


I took the stars from our eyes, and then I made a map

by bearpantaloons



Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-11
Updated: 2018-10-11
Packaged: 2019-07-29 14:02:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16265702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bearpantaloons/pseuds/bearpantaloons
Summary: Delphine works for a company that grants terminally ill patients' wishes. She didn't expect Cosima to grant hers.





	I took the stars from our eyes, and then I made a map

**Author's Note:**

> Friends, I can't stop writing stuff and I know it's not Hemingway, but *SHRUG EMOJI* Thanks for humoring me. I'm sorry if this theme has been overdone.
> 
> Anyway, this isn't a happy story, so there are a couple trigger warnings for terminal illness and death. The ending is bittersweet, but it is by no means a traditionally happy ending. If you want to end at a semi-happy point, section VI is where I'd suggest stopping.
> 
> I've got another multi-chapter fic coming up that I'll start posting next week and this time I'm definitely, definitely posting biweekly. I'm gonna do it, darn it. I can be patient.

_'The soul takes flight to the world that is invisible but there arriving she is sure of bliss and forever dwells in paradise.' –_ Plato

 

...

 

I

You get to work and check your inbox. Your boss has sent you an assignment and you open it. Cosima Niehaus, 24, San Francisco, CA. Respiratory/autoimmune illness, terminal. Time until departure: 2-4 months. You sigh and click ‘accept.’ You work for a company that grants dying peoples’ wishes. It can be a difficult job, as some wishes are incredibly complex, so you need to get creative sometimes.

Photos of Cosima are also attached.  You click through them; she has a big, toothy smile, brown hair, hazel eyes guarded by glasses. Your coworker walks up behind you and looks over your shoulder. ‘She’s cute,’ he says. ‘Totally your type.’ There’s a certain disconnect that you have to create when you have a job like this; getting too attached to clients will almost always end in heartbreak, so you ignore his comment and continue looking through her file.

You finish up at work and gather your notes. You print out one of the photos and hold it in your hands, your eyes lingering a little too long. ‘Cosima,’ you whisper under your breath, a name already etching itself onto your lips and slowly making its way lower to your chest.

 

II

The next day, you pack your things and head to the airport; your flight for San Francisco leaves in a couple hours. Cosima had to move back in with her parents after falling ill. You don’t know why you’re so nervous. Most of the time, these meetings go well, because you’re there to grant people’s last wishes, and even if you can’t complete all of them, you’re making their last memories happy ones.

When you land, a man by the name of Scott is there to pick you up and take you to the Niehaus residence. You pull into the driveway and three people are already standing outside of the house to greet you and Scott, instantly recognizing Cosima from the photos in your file. You climb out of the passenger seat and walk up to the group.

The other man and the older woman extend their hands and shake yours, introducing themselves as Cosima’s parents. You introduce yourself.

‘Delphine Cormier.’

Cosima extends her hand; you would never have guessed that she was ill. She takes a look at you and smiles.

‘Attractive _and_ French. I didn’t even have to wish for that.’

Scott rolls his eyes. ‘Really, Cos?’

Cosima shrugs, ‘Hey, I’m dying. I gotta shoot my shot while I still can.’ She switches her attention to you. ‘Don’t worry about him, he’s a party pooper.’

You’re instantly taken by this woman. Her cheerful disposition in spite of her health is infectious and you can’t help but smile in her presence.

They show you to the house and you sit down with them, explaining the rules of your program. If there’s any deterioration in health, you will return her home, as the client's health is the most important thing. They all nod in agreement and sign the paperwork.

You go through Cosima’s list together, figuring out the easiest ones you can do locally. She has an odd number of wishes and tell her that she should choose one more, because even numbers work better. Cosima assures you that she will later. Most of the wishes require some kind of travel, so you decide to take a trip to Southern California for the first two wishes. You give Mr. and Mrs. Niehaus your contact information and you agree to meet back there at 7:00am the next morning. Cosima walks you out to the car, where Scott is waiting.

‘Guess I’ll see you tomorrow,’ Cosima says, opening the door of the car for you. You nod an affirmation and smile, mirroring hers. You hold the gaze for a lot longer than you expected; Scott lets out an exasperated sigh and tells Cosima to stop flirting. Cosima shuts the door and takes a step back. She waves at the car as it leaves the driveway.

On the way to the hotel, Scott warns you that ever since Cosima got sick, her flirting has gotten unbearable, but she doesn’t mean anything by it. You tell him that you can handle it and that it happens fairly often in your line of work. Scott asks if you’ve ever slept with a client before and you’re instantly offended. You tell him that you’re a professional and aren’t hired to be a sex worker. He shrugs and says it wouldn’t be such a bad idea from time to time. The rest of the ride is silent.

Scott parks in front of the hotel and unloads your luggage. He says goodnight and leaves you to check in. All you can think about is what Scott said about sleeping with clients. There’s no way.

Could you?

_No._

 

III

You wake up the next morning and get ready, packing a smaller bag to take with you on your trip. Scott picks you up and takes you to the car rental place and you get your car and follow him back to the Niehaus residence. As you both pull up, Cosima bounds through the front door with her overnight bag, wearing a big smile on her face. You return the infectious smile and step out of the car.

‘You look ready,’ you say.

‘Hell yeah,’ she replies. ‘I haven’t gotten to go anywhere since moving back home. I’ve got cabin fever.’ She tosses her bag in the back seat and runs back to give her parents a quick hug goodbye. You tell her parents that you’ll take good care of her and you’ll call to check in periodically. Both of you get into the car and you set off.

‘Where to first?’ Cosima asks.

You tell her your plan to head to Santa Monica, since you can complete her two wishes of ‘ride a ferris wheel’ and ‘swim in the ocean.’ She bounces up and down in her seat in excitement and you laugh.

The six and a half-hour (more with wonderful LA traffic) drive goes by quickly between Cosima asking you dozens of questions about you and your job and her singing along to songs she plays over the radio. Feeling comfortable around Cosima comes easily; she has this ability to make it feel like you’ve known each other for years when you just met the day before.

‘Wait, so you were a scientist, too, before granting wishes?’ Cosima asks.

You nod in response. She asks why you switched careers. You weren’t prepared for this question and stammer through your answer. You keep your answer vague and tell her that you weren’t able to help a loved one before they passed, so you made it your life’s work to make sure that didn’t happen to anyone again. Cosima nods and sits quietly for a few minutes before thanking you for being her awesome French genie. Her friendliness and positive demeanor lifts the weight that’s held you down for quite some time.

‘Hey, look!’ Cosima exclaims. ‘It’s the ocean!’

You smile at her excitement. She tells you that she’s never been to an actual beach and San Francisco Bay doesn’t count. When you get to the boardwalk, you park and climb out of the car. Both of you are wearing swimsuits underneath your clothing under the advisement of Cosima.

She races you down the pier and you’re out of breath when you reach the massive wheel. Her eyes are wide and you smile. You pay for a couple of tickets and stand in line. Cosima grabs your hand and squeezes it, looking at you with child-like glee. The contact surprises you, but you don’t mind the warmth of her hand. When you get to the cart, you both sit down and the attendant closes the door.

The wheel starts rotating around and it pauses when your cart is at the very top. You had slipped the attendant some cash in order for that to happen. Cosima gasps and looks around, gripping the edge of the cart until her knuckles turn white. ‘It’s beautiful,’ she whispers, but she’s looking directly at you when she says it.

You make your way down to the beach next, taking your shoes off, so you can feel the grainy sand between your toes. Cosima runs past you and awkwardly stomps through the ocean tide. She turns to face you and you see a giant wave forming behind her. You try to warn her, but it’s too late and it washes over her. You rush over and wade through the freezing water to try and find her through the tide. You yell out her name, but she doesn’t come up, so you start to panic. Cosima finally surfaces, laughing heartily and you playfully splash her.

After Cosima is finally worn out from swimming, you head to the hotel room. You each choose your beds and Cosima falls asleep immediately. You check over the list again to see which you can do next. The next one that might be possible is ‘ride a horse into the Grand Canyon’. You listen to Cosima’s soft snores and feel the knot in your chest begin to tighten.

 

IV

Driving to Arizona is a little dull, mostly dessert and flat land, but, again, Cosima keeps it entertaining. She tells you about her life before getting sick, how she’d been going to school and then one day, bam, she’s coughing up blood and has a seizure, sending her in and out the hospital for weeks. Doctors couldn’t figure out what was wrong, so she accepted her fate and decided to make the most of whatever time she had left.

You’ve heard many stories like Cosima’s, people who are resigned to the fact that they don’t have much time left and would rather spend it doing things they want to do. You admire it. You admire her.

You get to the Nevada-Arizona border and pull the car over. Cosima wakes up from her sleep and groggily asks where you are. You tell her to get out of the car and exit yourself. You grab Cosima by the wrist and drag her to an area on the side of the road.

‘You’re straddling the California-Arizona border. You’re in two places at once,’ you beam, mentally checking off another wish. Cosima looks down at her feet and squeals in excitement. She hugs you and you practically fall over, but you keep your balance and gently hug her back.

You check into the hotel, flopping right onto the bed when you enter. You didn’t even notice that there was only one bed in the room and Cosima falls next to you.

‘Looks like we’re sharing a bed tonight, Doc.’

That’s the nickname she’s decided to give you after you told her that you had planned on going to medical school before life took you in a different direction. It’s sweet, you think. That night, you fall asleep to the sound of Cosima’s breaths inches from your ear and you wonder what she dreams about.

Turns out, horse riding isn’t as easy as television and movies led you to believe. The saddle is making your ass sore and it’s uncomfortable, but at least Cosima appears to be enjoying herself. She’s been having conversations with her trusty steed, Kevin.

‘Kevin says you’re really pretty, Delphine.’

You feel your face flush, knowing very well that it’s Cosima’s opinion. ‘Well, thank you, Kevin. You’re very handsome, yourself.’

You spend one more night in Arizona after your long and uncomfortable trek, but this time, Cosima inches her way closer to you in the bed. You’re not sure if she’s doing it subconsciously, but you face her and watch her sleep, pressing a gentle kiss on her forehead.

 

V

You decide to fly back to San Francisco, rather than spend two more days in the car. Cosima flirts with the stewardess and gets an extra packet of peanuts. She gives you a mischievous grin as she pours out half of the peanuts for you; you laugh and shake your head at her antics.

When you land, Cosima pauses when you exit the plane and is hunched over, but she says she’s fine. You continue to keep an eye on her until you get back to her parents’ house, where she gushes about the trip. You see her mother wiping away tears from the corners of her eyes as Cosima happily recounts everything you two have done the past week. Her father gives you a gentle look that says ‘thank you.’

You’re about to leave to head back to your hotel, but Cosima begs you to stay a little longer. You can’t bring yourself to deny her, so you agree. Cosima’s parents start cooking dinner and Cosima asks if you want to watch a movie while you wait. You nod and she tells you to sit on the couch, which you do. You watch her scurry around the room, looking through stacks of discs until she finds the one she’s looking for. She puts it into the player and takes a seat next to you.

The credits roll and it stars looking familiar.

‘Armageddon?’ You ask.

Cosima shrugs. ‘It’s a guilty pleasure. Plus, Liv Tyler is super attractive.’

The two of you watch the movie together, sitting inches apart. You take a quick break to eat before you finish it. By the end, you’re ugly crying into the pillow that you’re hugging across your chest. Cosima asks if you’re okay and you realize that it’s the first time you’ve actually cried while on the job. Cosima takes one of your hands and kisses your knuckles. You inhale sharply and tell her that you need to leave and practically run out the front door.

When you get outside, you curse when you remember you don’t have a car, because you came straight from the airport. Cosima runs out behind you and stands a couple feet behind you. You can feel her gaze upon you, but you can’t turn around. She asks again if you’re okay, but you don’t answer, because you’re afraid of what may come out of your mouth. You feel a warm hand grab ahold of yours and you turn around.

‘I don’t want you to go,’ you say quietly, your voice quaking, threatening to break open the chasm inside of your chest.

‘Yikes, I’m not dead yet,’ she replies with a grin. ‘Besides, you have more wishes to grant. There’s no way I’m dying before I get to learn how to ride a motorcycle.’

She tells you to come back inside and you should sleep there since it’s late. Cosima’s parents fold out the sofa into a bed and get clean sheets and pillows. They tell you that they haven’t seen Cosima this attached to someone in a long time. Usually, she keeps people at arm’s length, because of her health, but it’s been really great to see. You nod give them a tight-lipped smile, saying it’s been nice getting to know her, too.

You wake up in the middle of the night and let your eyes adjust to the darkness. You look over to the recliner next to the sofa bed and see Cosima curled up in it. You take one of your blankets and place it over her body. She stirs, but doesn’t wake up. You lie back down and watch her sleep until the sun rises. The knot in your chest begins to unravel and your heart spills out into the room.

 

VI

You hear the engine of the motorcycle roar and you cover your eyes while Cosima takes off on the track. You tried to talk her out of this, but she was adamant and told you not to worry. She wasn’t dying that day. She would need more lessons before being able to get a license, but her instructor gave her a sticker that said ‘honorary biker’ and she was content with that. On your way back to her house, Cosima has a coughing fit and you see the blood in the tissues. You frown and tell her that she should rest, but she shakes her head and says there’s more to do.

On the way home, you stop for ice cream and you’re walking down the street with Cosima, who pensively eats her cold dessert - Eskimo Pies, she called them. You ask her what she’s thinking about and she stops walking. She looks up at you and stands on her toes and gives you a chaste kiss.

‘That,’ she says, smiling and keeps walking.

Everything is telling you to stop. Don’t get too involved. Get transferred. Find another client. But you don’t want to fail her. You can’t.

You continue spending time with her, even if you have no wishes planned. It’s gotten to the point where Cosima’s parents assume you’re staying for dinner and they set a place for you at the table. On a couple of occasions, she’s fallen asleep on your shoulder while the two of you watch another sad movie. You’ve grown accustomed to the weight of her head on you and you miss it when it’s not there. When she has bad days, which are beginning to come more frequently, she asks you to lie in bed with her until she falls asleep, and you do.

One night, when you think she’s asleep, you whisper, ‘Je t’aime,’ into her ear and you hear her reply, ‘I know,’ as she hugs you closer to her. 

 

VII

You don’t get to finish her wishes. She has to be admitted into the hospital when her cough doesn’t get better. You visit her every day and the nurses let you take her on walks outside. You tell her she looks cute in her little gown; she tells you to shut up, but smiles. They let her go home after a few days, but she’s tired a lot and doesn’t leave the house, so you meet her there. You watch movies, have picnics in her room, talk about science, take naps together – the weight of her head comfortably on your shoulder.

One day, you walk up to Cosima’s house. You knock on the door and it’s already open, which is odd, but you walk in. The house looks empty, but you can hear some noise upstairs. As you ascend the stairs, you feel dread. You walk up to Cosima’s room and the first thing you see is her mother sobbing into her husband’s arms. At that moment, the dread becomes panic and then realization. The bouquet of flowers that you held in your hand drops to the wooden floor and you drop to your knees straight after.

You cry for three days. You cry over the loss of your client, your friend, your love. On the fourth day, you receive a phone call from Cosima’s mother, who asks you to join them at their house. When you get there, they have you sit at the table and you stare at Cosima’s empty chair. They hand you an envelope with your name on it. You open it and pull out the papers. They smell like her.

_Delphine,_

_Hi, beautiful. I’m sorry we didn’t get to finish my wishes. I would have liked to see you figure out how to get me to Australia and smuggle a koala out of the county. I just wanted to thank you for everything. The past couple of months have been the best in my entire, short, life. I mean that. I have never felt more alive. It’s all thanks to you. I know you wanted me to pick one more wish to keep things even, but I actually picked three more. I’ve been told I’m a little bit of an overachiever. So, without further ado:_

  1. _Name a star after me, so whenever you miss me, I’ll be there, looking down on you, Mom, and Dad. This is also just an excuse for me to be in space, since I never got to be an astronaut._
  2. _Finish your degree. Delphine, I know your passion is science. Go follow your passion. Whatever has you stuck granting wishes for dying people, let go. You’ve done all you can. You’ve more than made up for it with me and I will always be grateful for what you’ve done for me. It’s time to grant your own wish._
  3. _Fall in love. I did, with you. I love you, Delphine Cormier. Thank you for loving me back. I’m sorry it wasn’t for as long as we’d hoped, but my heart was full when I left this earth. I want you to know that. The only thing I would do over is probably kiss you when we were on top of the ferris wheel. I know, I know, super cliché, but you’re the best thing that’s happened to me._



_I want you to move on. I don’t want you to be stuck. I want you to find the love you deserve. You gave me two amazing months and I hope I gave you the same. I know you won’t be able to find someone as awesome and hilarious as me, but try. Je t’aime, aussi (I had to Google that)._

_Yours,_

_Cosima_

 

VIII

You check yourself in the mirror and make sure your cap is on straight. When you get to the university campus, you take your seat amongst the other students and wait for your name to be called. You get to the stage and receive your diploma, shake hands with the faculty, and step down. After the ceremony, you find Cosima’s parents and they both give you giant hugs. You thank them for coming and they tell you they wouldn’t have missed it for the world and they know Cosima would have been so proud.

That night after celebrating, you drive out to a vista point, away from the lights of the city and find a place to sit. You look up into the sky, finding the general area where Cosima’s star would be.

‘I did it, Cosima. I got my degree, just like you wanted,’ you smile. ‘I don’t think I ever would have done it had you not given me that extra push. I got accepted into a PhD program for immunology, too. Can you imagine? I’m going to be Dr. Delphine Cormier in another few years. I wish you could be here to see it. I miss you so much.’ You feel your chest get heavy. You blow a kiss into space and you gasp when you see a star shoot across the sky. You laugh and wipe a tear from the corner of your eye. ‘Show off. Goodnight, mon amour. I’ll see you tomorrow.’

You move to Toronto to finish your PhD and find a job at an institute dedicated to finding cures for rare diseases. You make it your life’s work to study Cosima’s disease and discover a cure. After months of trials and many failures, you finally get a breakthrough. You inform Cosima’s parents and they’re happy to know that their daughter sparked the creation of the cure, even if it was too late for her.

You look at the framed photo of Cosima on your desk longingly and you wish she could be there. ‘Nice work, Doc,’ she’d say. ‘Who knew a dying girl could help so many people?’ Eventually, a new wing of the institution is erected and they want to name it after you, but you insist that they name it after Cosima. That way, she would always be around you. In the building during the day, in the skies at night.

You never forget about her, even after you start your own family. Your children always ask you if you miss her. Each time, you smile at them and say you miss her every day, but she’s always with you. You tell them to thank their lucky stars every night, but give a special thanks to one in particular. You tell them about the time when you granted people’s wishes. And you tell your children the story about the woman who saved your life after hers ended. 


End file.
